Honestly, Nate

I have too many clothes. My mom started telling me this when I was under 10 years old, and she could still (and did as we packed up to move last year) say it today. Instead of complaining/burning excess clothing in secret, Nate recently suggested that we find a small dresser to put in the other room. That way that cats could have reign over a book case we would move by the window in our front room. Win, Win, Win.


Two Saturdays ago, after a trip to the farmer's market, Nate, Alana and I stopped off at St. Vincent De Paul's. Having grown up in Utah, I kept thinking a local soup kitchen started selling second hand furniture...but the one in Toledo just sells furniture and clothes...and hopeless pieces of computers no one will ever use. Seriously, it was like a graveyard. Anyway, I found the dresser I wanted. It was beautiful: it was actual wood, the drawers opened, and it didn't smell weird. Alana attempted to negotiate with the "salesperson", but she quoted $35 and took off. She had better things to do...like tell people she didn't know how to run the credit card machine. Deciding we could talk someone else down a bit from her quote, we held off.


Nate stopped by the following Monday, in grubby clothes and with only a loose grasp on correct grammar (he wanted to see if that would help his cause), he asked a different woman to check out a dresser for him. "$65", she says. Refusing to go upstairs to look at said dresser, she insisted that her manager wouldn't let her sell them for less than that.
Nate: "I would like to speak with your manager"

Woman: "he's not here"

Nate: "when will he be back?"

Woman: "5:00pm"

Nate: "how late are you open today?"

Woman: "4:00pm"


A good time was had by all. Nate left, planning on returning on Friday, cause the woman said so. I think it was just a day of the week that she was familiar with, but whatever. Nate went back on Friday, dressed up and with improved grammar. He said he was there to pick up a dresser, some guys showed up, put the dresser in his car and said "okay, you're all set!". He hadn't paid yet. He sat in his car. He could drive away. He could give his wife not only a dresser, but a free dresser. He could spite that crazy woman. His obstacles: we were scheduled to go to the temple that night, he didn't want to rip off a thrift store, guilt. What happened: I got a non-free, non-overpriced dresser. And Nate is awesome. So is my dresser.

I'll meet you behind McDonald's...

I'm going to assume this is referring to fireworks?

In Our Lovely Deseret

I remember when shopping at the Deseret Industries (DI)* was really embarrassing. In my fifth grade class, someone was teased because they were seen shopping there (it now seems obvious to ask how the teaser was to be able to see the teased, but whatever).

While being an adult has some definite drawbacks, I now enjoy the (social) freedom to shop wherever I want; with pride, even. Last week during my visit back to Utah, I made an impressive 2 appearances to the same DI location within a 4 day span. The first day I shopped with Ruth (my sister) and my mom. I followed my mom over to the book section and found all the church books anyone could want (or didn't want, in this case). I found some great biographies on some of the prophets, but my prize find was a copy of President Benson's biography. It's written by Sheri Dew and signed by the prophet himself, so it's not only valuable (to me), but also well written. I surfaced from the book selection with an armful of (heavy) books; maybe Ruth's raised eyebrows didn't say "you realize that a heavy baggage fee is $50, right", but they should have. I found a few great items of clothing, but we had to leave to get to a family party.

Not completely satisfied, I called Ruth the next day and asked if she was up for another visit to DI. I was in luck (or being indulged), so we returned and were in rare form. I found all sorts of work/play clothes without (much of) the guilt of a regular shopping trip. After announcing my total to Ruth's husband, Matt, he asked if they gave me the keys to the store. I've been wearing DI clothes for a week and have felt totally stylish, but my carefree DI spending reminded me of diet advice I've heard: just because you are eating low-fat cookies doesn't mean you should eat the whole box. I won't feel guilty. My box of cookies was a lot less expensive than most and I successfully avoided a heavy baggage fee by carrying on about 40lbs on my back while wearing a bad outfit. I earned my bargains.

*Goodwill or Salvation Army equivalent

Home again, home again jiggity jog

Last February, during one of my tantrums (I will blame the weather...February is depressing; not even Valentime's Day can save it), Nate suggested that I take a trip home to visit family (and maybe to give him a break??). I just returned home, from my quick visit...home. Utah gave me a beautiful weekend of weather, family, and the Deseret Industries*. I was able to reacquaint myself with my family, Nate's family, a nephew who does nothing but smile and coo, 2 enormous cats, my doctor and my favorite local park. I also was lucky enough to meet two sets of twins (2 sets=4 babies), who were all very fun, but heavier and more squirmy than my cats, so holding them felt a little foreign.

It's an odd sensation to feel sad about leaving two places; leaving Toledo in the first place was extremely difficult, but it was my return flight out of Salt Lake that said, "just stay here". Ruth and Vince got me back to the airport right on time, but after sitting for an hour in the plane, I started to get fussy because it hadn't moved yet. At that point, the passengers were told they could either stay on the plane for another hour, or they could get off the plane and complain to the gate agents. Maybe they didn't say all of that, but it happened either way. Because I'm smart, I called the airline and fixed my missed connection all while eating an apple (thanks again Ruth).

One more hour and the plane took off. I shouldn't say this, but the chatty people behind me (that found they had a ton in common) were reaccommodated on different flights and I felt so blessed. I arrived in Minneapolis without incident and I had enough time for some dinner. Remembering what my doctor had recently said about curves (they are good apparently), I decided on Burger King. I ordered my kids meal, then enjoyed this conversation:

Liz: "do you have any side options other than fries?"
BK: "nope, just fries."
Liz: "okay, fries it is."
BK: "would you like regular or apple?"

For those who are wondering, the apples aren't fried, they are shaped so kids/Liz is tricked into eating better. I wasn't quite in Ohio, but the conversation reminded me so much of Toledo that I rushed to my gate to get back to the home I discovered that I missed.

*may need it's own blog entry

Rabbits about that size

Our cats were due for a check up of sorts. Nate had a "law review v. moot court" football game (self professed "battle of the nerds") scheduled right around the same time, so while maybe I deserved to go through the cat gauntlet in the car again, I wasn't looking forward to it. To prepare, I purchased a second pet carrier (pet taxi, to be official). Ruth asked me why I couldn't just use a banker's box. She really loves animals.

The second cat carrier made my transition to the car much easier than last time. Kathryn had been napping, so I took advatage of her confusion, shoved her in the carrier and threw a couple of treats at her. I stopped off at the school to see if Nate could come along, and the four of us headed to the vet. While we were waiting, a man with his two miniture dobermans came in. Their owners asked if we had cats (Nate was holding two cat carriers) and proceeded to tell us his dogs had never seen a cat. Before I could ask him how that was possible, Nate showed off Kathryn and Mal. Once he saw them, he said, "oh ya, these guys take down things like that all the time, you know, rabbits about that size, they bring em right to me". Dead, I assume. So to translate, his dogs can kill my cats. So if anyone is curious, it is really awkward to talk about pet deaths with a stranger...in a facility that serves to save animals.

Can you be more pacific?

This maybe isn't much of a post, but I love misused words/phrases. I've heard a handful recently and I wanted to share:

-"she can talk the fur off of..." (never bothered to finish. Reason? Lack of info).

-"it's as hot as a scorcher out there!" (translation: way hot)

-"he was trying to color code it" (I think they meant sugar coat. I hope. Maybe it would feel better about bad news if the colors were organized?)

And not recent, but still my favorite... "well, you know the saying, 'idle hands...' " (he didn't finish, and I was tempted, but didn't ask, "do you know the saying??)

Do you have a favorite misused word or saying?

"They're falling now...faster"

I'm torn. I love autumn; I think it's my favorite season because it's so difficult to mess up. Last year it was so pretty here. I think the fall foliage tricked me into feeling safe about the winter to come. This year I know better, so while I'm excited for leaves, excuses to buy spicy candles, eat pumpkin-y foods, etc. I know my eventual fate.

It's early September, and I already feel like I'm done for. Nate and I had a discussion today about how to keep our heat bill lower this year, although we went swimming less than two weeks ago. I will make an effort to lay off depressing-weather-update-I can't-believe-I-live-here posts, so instead I will just say that there are already orangey leaves kicking about and I want to glue them back on the trees.

Reminds me of "The Last Leaf". If there is anything as depressing as 1-"Old Yeller" 2-"Where the Red Fern Grows" 3-"The Yearling", it's the "The Last Leaf". So that's basically how I feel, aside from the sick in bed, and totally disillusioned because a kind old man painted a leaf on a building part. No one has been that thoughtful yet. Maybe Nate can work something up this weekend.